


Everything You Want

by justarenegade



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-16 20:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4639893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justarenegade/pseuds/justarenegade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when the one who you gave up everything for refuses to give up anything for you? What if your prayers had been left unanswered and your faith was shaken to the very core?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ″But under skinned knees and the skid marks. Past the places where you used to learn. You howl and listen. Listen and wait for the echoes of angels who won’t return”

Castiel stood in the kitchen dutifully stirring the spaghetti sauce, taking a taste of it and furrowing his brow, trying to figure out what spice to add to it next. He had quickly fallen into the domestic role in the household. It made him happy to spend the day around the house. It was a grounding thing for him in a way, having a routine that he could follow and things he accomplished each day. It wasn’t saving people from the grips of Hell or defeating demonic entities, but dust bunnies and grease stains (from Dean’s overindulgence in burgers) were far easier to conquer.  
The only thing missing from their lives were the pitter-patter of little feet. They had a cat who had gotten so used to being called “That Damn Cat” by Dean when it would scratch him for being too rough that it barely responded to much else. Originally it had started out as Snowball, a white, rescue from the local pound. After Cas had nearly taken home three more cats on their last visit, Dean had forbade him from going back to the pound. But a cat was not a child. It was not the culmination of his and Dean’s love. It wasn’t a small human who could hug him and ask him to fix something special for their birthday or get excited over Christmas presents (although TDC had gotten pretty excited over the new cat tree this past Christmas).

Dean had taken a desk job for a while, but got himself fired when he accidentally pegged his boss in the forehead when he was throwing a tiny stress relief ball off of the back of his door and letting it bounce back onto his desk. Right now finances were okay, but things would be getting tight if Dean didn’t find another job. At least Sam had adjusted well enough to ‘normal’ life. But Lord knows he had been desperate for some semblance of normal since he was a kid. He worked as a paralegal at a local law firm while he worked on getting back in college. All in all, their lives were more quiet and calm than they had been in a long time. Even Dean had been on his best behavior and hadn’t taken on eighteen hunting jobs the previous week.

Castiel hummed some 60s song as he opened the oven and checked the garlic cheese bread. The room was suddenly swarmed with the smell of garlic and cheese and his stomach gave a soft gurgle. He hadn’t eaten all day, and was still getting used to the whole ‘eating every six hours’ thing that humans did. Though he’d been fallen for a while now, it was a small window of time compared to the thousands of years he’d spent as an angel. The water for the noodles began to boil and he poured the noodles into the hot water, stirring them with another spoon to make sure they didn’t stick. He added a dash of rosemary into the spaghetti, lowered the heat, and stirred it once more before he wiped his hands on his apron and walked into the hallway. Dean’s voice caught his attention.

“Alright, so we got a case. Demon in Chicago. Uh-huh,” Dean was scribbling things down in a notebook, “Yeah, yeah possession and all that fun shit. Huh? Yeah, I gotcha. We’ll be up there as soon as we can. Thanks, dude.”

“Another case? Dean…” Castiel stood in the hall, still holding his wooden spoon, with a sad expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, Cas. It’s just—“

“I know, you have to save these people. I understand, Dean.” Cas’ smile was sad and small, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“We’ll be back before you know it, babe. I promise. Unless of course you want to come?”

“No, no, you and Sam go. I am out of the people-saving business.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

That evening Dean was especially excited over the dinner and kept telling Castiel how good it was. They both knew he was sucking up to try to spare Cas’ feelings, but it wasn’t going to do them any good tonight. Cas smiled and nodded, barely touching his spaghetti. He mostly shoved it around on his plate until Dean was done, and then carried everyone’s dishes into the kitchen. Dean helped him wash the dishes and kissed him several times before they went to sleep. Cas stayed awake long after Dean’s snores had taken over, and simply watched him. How could he be angry with Dean over leaving? Dean had to save the world and Cas knew that when he got into this relationship. But that still didn’t make up for how alone he often felt. Eventually sleep overtook him and his eyelids closed as he rolled over and curled up next to Dean.

The next morning the bed was already cold when Castiel finally stirred. The smell of coffee wafted through the house and he could hear the familiar cocking of guns in the living room where the brothers were cleaning them and loading them before their trip. A duffle bag stood next to the door of the bedroom as Cas yawned and got up, running a hand through his thick, brown hair. As he expected, the boys were sitting over the kitchen table, which was now covered in gun oil stains and grit, with a cup of coffee next to both of them. Cas made them both a big breakfast so they wouldn’t have to stop on the way to Chicago.

Dean and Sam got to Chicago and back with minimal damage, and it seemed like they weren’t home 24 hours before the next call was coming in. Cas, again, stood off to the side watching Dean shove things into his duffle bag. Dean kissed Cas and promised that he would take a break and stay home for a while. They both knew it was a lie, and that Dean would be back in the Impala heading for the next monster that went bump in the night before the end of the week. It was tiring and it had begun to wear down and Castiel and make him resentful. He’d never once forced Dean to stop hunting, he understood that it was engrained so deeply in his nature that it was almost impossible to stop completely. But it was the repeated lies about how Dean would stop for a few weeks so they could be together that hurt Cas the most. The way that hunting always took priority over the man who had quite literally, and figuratively, fallen for him.

“Cas, listen, we’re on our way back now. Or…well, we were on our way back. We got a call just right when we finished the job and now we have a fucking chupacabra situation in San Antonio we gotta deal with. Are you okay with me going?” Dean’s voice crackled from the poor reception in whatever area he was driving through.

What was Cas supposed to say? ‘No, come home right now and forget you were ever a hunter!’ wouldn’t fly with Dean and Cas understood that. Instead he’d said it was fine, and that they would just make plans whenever he came back. Cas had plans to surprise Dean and take him out to a special dinner with the money he had stored away from his bagging job at a grocery store. He had wanted them to do something with just the two of them since it was getting close to their anniversary. Castiel frowned as he dialed the number for the restaurant.

“Hello, my name is Castiel Novak and I have reservation for Friday.” Cas resisted the urge to sigh into the line.

“Mr. Novak,” The woman at the hostess station was the same one he’d made friends with over the years, and she was chipper as always, “how are you this evening?”

“I’m doing okay, Michelle. My fiancé had another business trip so—“

“You need to cancel the reservation again?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry, Michelle. I know it is in poor etiquette of me to continue to set up these reservations and then cancel them.” Castiel scratched out the reservation in the planner he had on Dean’s desk.

“That is perfectly fine, Mr. Novak. I understand how difficult business meetings can be. I worked through college as a flight attendant and we often had guys who had to jump from one cross-country business meeting to another.” Michelle responded.

“Thanks, Michelle. I’ll try to reschedule whenever Dean makes it home.”

“Have a good afternoon, Mr. Novak. Oh, and please… just, take care of yourself okay? Make your own happiness the priority and you can never go wrong.”

“Thank you, Michelle. I’ll keep that in mind.” Castiel responded before hanging up.

And true to what he said, Castiel did think about it. He thought about it a lot while he waited for Dean to get back. The hours had drug into days before Dean called again to say that the situation was worse than they thought, and that he and Sam would be staying a few extra days. Tying up loose ends, saving people, hunting things, the family business. The same shit he’d heard so many times that he could recite it in his sleep. As Castiel hung up the phone he bit his lip and looked out the window. A decision had to be made and he would have to be the one to make it. The loneliness was overwhelming. And he didn’t know how much he could stand before it destroyed him.


	2. “Find me here, speak to me. I want to feel you, I need to hear you. You are the light that’s leading me to the place where I find peace again.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is forced to make a tough decision, and Dean and Sam are left to pick up the pieces. When an unexpected visitor comes bearing good news, could it mean new beginnings or merely the end of a chapter?

Castiel stood in the living room, suitcases packed next to him. Dean was leaning against the wall, tears in his eyes. Sam sat on the arm of the couch, his glance darting back and forth between the former angel and Dean.

“You can’t fucking do this, Cas.” Dean’s voice was hoarse.

“Dean, I have given you far more chances than you deserve.” He saw Dean wince and look at the ground, and felt a tiny pang of satisfaction for having hurt Dean.

“Cas, please, we can work this out! I will quit hunting. I will never take another—“

Castiel held up his hand to silence Dean, “No, Dean, we both know you’re lying. You have said at least, at last count, 156 times that you would quit hunting. That you would do this for me.”

“Cas, do you have any clue how hard it is for me to just give up hunting?”

Anger boiled under Castiel’s skin and before he could stop himself he’d crossed the room and gotten right in Dean’s face. His eyes held the same angry, hard glint they had before when he was still one of Heaven’s fiercest warriors. He grabbed Dean’s shirt and balled the material in his fist.

“How hard it is for _you,_ Dean. Do you want to know what’s hard? Trying giving up **everything** you have known for over two thousand years, everyone you’ve cared about, everything you spent your entire existence trying to protect ripped away from you. Dean, I gave up _everything_ for you, to be with you. Don’t ever talk to me about giving something up when you have no idea what I have been through. How I still lie awake at night and wonder if they think of me, my brothers and sisters, and if they care about me or look down their noses because now I am just a dumb, useless human. I constantly question if my decision was the right one. I gave up being an **angel** for you, Dean. I WAS AN ANGEL OF THE LORD AND NOW I AM A MAN WHO HAS NOTHING LEFT!” His voice grew into an angry roar and tears streamed down his face.

“Cas…” Dean’s voice had gotten very quiet.

“No, Dean. I am leaving. I can’t sit idly by anymore and the man I gave up everything for not care enough to give up one thing for me. I am sick and weary of being here by myself all the time and worrying if you’ll make it home in that god-forsaken car or in a pine box. Goodbye, Dean Winchester. Thank you for letting me see that all humans are, in fact, just alike.” Castiel slipped on his trench coat and grabbed his suitcases.

“Cas, Cas please. Please, Cas, I can’t lose you… I’ve lost everyone.”

“Well, Dean, that makes two of us.” Castiel didn’t bother to turn around, walking across the living room to the door.

Castiel didn’t own a vehicle. It was one of the things he’d neglected to purchase when he had fallen. He knew how to drive, of course, but he had never bothered to own a car. If he needed to go anywhere, he could always rely on the Impala. He bit his lip, glancing both ways before crossing across the mostly barren street. He flipped up the collar on his trenchcoat, bracing himself against the cold that hung in the air. He steeled his shoulders and continued walking, resisting the urge to look back at the apartment building.

Inside Dean stood at the window, tears running down his face as he watched Cas disappear around the corner. He turned around and looked at Sam who had yet to move from his place on the couch. Sam’s eyes were focused on the floor, and he was pointedly refusing to make eye contact with Dean.

“Well, Sammy, go ahead and say it!” Dean’s voice cracked.

“I wasn’t—“Sam started

“Well you’re thinking it. You’re the one who always wanted to give up this hunting shit and have a normal life, right? And now you’re thinking I should have given it up for Castiel and maybe he wouldn’t have walked out of that door.” Dean collapsed on a chair at the dining table.

“Dean, I wasn’t going to say anything. Castiel will be back, he’s left before.”

“Yeah, well, that was different. He was on holy assignment, called away from some divine purpose or some shit. Now he’s not and I am just the asshole who ran off someone who cared about me. I have a habit of that don’t I, Sammy?”

“Dean…”

“No, never mind.” Dean grabbed the keys to the Impala and slipped on his jacket.

“Where are you going, Dean?”

“OUT, SAMMY!”

Dean made it out to his car and laid his forehead on the steering wheel, unable to hold back the flood of emotions surging through him. He sobbed until his throat was raw, his chest ached, and he felt as though he had no tears left in him. Dean drove around for a while, finally turning on the stereo to try to distract himself. _‘Oh, a storm is threat'ning/My very life today/If I don't get some shelter/Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away..’_ Dean hit the skip button, flipping to the next song _‘Well I've heard there was a secret chord/That David played and it pleased the Lord/But you don't really care for music, do you?/Well it goes like this:/The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift/The baffled king composing Halle—“_ Dean swore under his breath, turning on the radio in hopes of finding something that didn’t remind of him Cas. _‘How I wish, how I wish you were here./We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,/Running over the same old ground./What have we fou—“_ Dean slammed the button on the stereo. “FOR FUCKS’S SAKE.” Dean decided he needed a drink and rode the rest of the way to the bar in silence.

When Dean sat down at the bar and a cute waitress came over. Brown hair, blue eyes and… He sighed. The universe really wanted to bend him over and fuck him today.

“Hi, darlin’, my name’s Cassie. What can I get you?”

“A new life.”

“Huh?”

“Sorry, uh, whiskey please.”

Dean had a few too many whiskeys actually, and eventually Cassie became a blur of clothes on the ground and a stand-in for the man he truly loved. The pattern was a volatile one but he kept it up for weeks, throwing in every lead that Sam could get. Sam stood every night and watched Dean slowly unravelling, and yet again he had to become the strong brother. But unlike the other times, Sam wasn’t sure Dean would ever snap out of this one.

“Hi, Cas, how are you today?” Her name was Catherine and she was the receptionist at the crisis center Castiel had begun working at a couple of weeks after leaving Dean and Sam’s house.

It had been fairly easy. All he had to do was put in a few phone calls to some hunting buddies of Dean’s and got a whole slew of fake information written up about him. He was now Castiel Atwood, licensed therapist and highly respected member of the mental health community. Castiel knew he could do something meaningful by helping these people. It wasn’t the Lord’s work, but it would give him something to focus on. Something to keep Dean out of his mind.

“I am doing well, Cat! You’re looking quite beautiful this morning. Green is certainly your color. Who do we have on the books this morning?” Castiel asked as he flipped through the schedule book.

“Sixteen. Pregnant teen mom situation. Her name is Hannah, and she asked specifically for you. She seems to know you, actually. I know that we have a policy about knowing the patient’s but…she seems desperate. I won’t tell if you don’t?” Catherine grinned, brushing a lock of her auburn hair behind her ear.

“Hannah… hmm. Okay. I’m going to make myself another cup of coffee and I’ll be ready for her.” Castiel smiled as he walked into the break room and poured himself another cup of coffee. He grabbed a bagel for later and walked into his office, settling down and checking over the chart left on his desk. He pressed the button on his intercom and let Cat know he was ready.

“Castiel?”

“Theliel?” His eyes snapped up at the feminine voice entering the room.

“Yeah, a 16 year-old pregnant girl was certainly not high up on my list of vessel choices, but you make do with your assignment.”

“What are you doing here Theliel? I am no longer an angel, remember?”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” The girl/angel sat down in the chair across from Castiel, “but that doesn’t mean God doesn’t hear your prayers, Castiel. God shines His favor down upon you, and He wants to give you solace from your…situation with Dean.”

“There is no situation. We’re over. We’ve been over.”

“I know, I know. Your little break-up is all the rage in the gossip circles up there. But God wants you to know He’s going to make good on His promises to you. He sent me to tell you that things will be remedied, but He needs you to be patient.”

“I was patient for years, Theliel.” Cas’ voice held an edge of bitterness about it.

“Mm. Well, you know how time works up there, Castiel. There isn’t exactly calendars all over the place.”

“Get to the point, Theliel!”

“The point is, you will be receiving the good news you asked for probably in the next year.”

“What good news?”

“You’ll figure it out. But now I fear it’s time for me to leave. It was nice to see you, Castiel. If anyone asks, she’s going to keep the baby and give it up for adoption.” Theliel winked before disappearing in a rustle of feathers.

Castiel sat behind his desk absently twisting around the engagement ring on his finger. He hadn’t been able to bear taking it off yet. Theliel was notorious as the angelic version of Cupid, or at least that is what he’d liked to compare himself too. If the angel of love had come to visit him, did that mean Dean would give everything up? _Cas, you’re being ridiculous. He made his decision, give it a rest._ He thought to himself. Castiel sighed and looked at the schedule, he had an hour before his next patient.

Dean woke up with a jolt in the Impala’s passenger seat. It had been over eight months since Castiel left. He was still alone.

“Nice nap, Dean?” Sam asked, glancing up from his phone.

“Man, Sammy, no need to yell.”

“I’m not yelling, Dean. You’re hungover.”

“No shit Sherlock. Want to tell me something new? The sky is blue? The grass is green?”

“You’re drinking yourself into oblivion?”

“Sam, don’t.”

“Dean, this isn’t healthy. You have a problem. We need to get you to Bobby’s and—“

“And what, smartass? Get him to mend my poor wittle bwoken heart? Son of a bitch it’s bright!”

Sam handed Dean a pair of sunglasses, “No need to be hostile, Dean. I meant, maybe Bobby knows something that could help. Although, I don’t know how many cases of an angel breaking up with a human are on record…”

“Sam, admit it, you want me to go to Bobby’s so he can tell me to sober up and stop being a pussy, right?”

Sam winced at Dean’s tone. “Well what the fuck am I supposed to do, Dean? You have been working like a madman and drinking yourself till you pass out every night. I’m sure your liver would appreciate a couple of weeks of sobriety.”

“Shut up, Sammy. Do we have another case yet?”

“Dean, I really think—“

“I SAID SHUT UP, SAMMY!” Dean interrupted, rubbing his temples.

“Okay, okay. No, no new cases yet. I’m sure one will come in soon. Breakfast?”

“Breakfast.”

Another case did come in that afternoon. Ghouls in Albuquerque. Sam didn’t feel comfortable letting Dean drive, and Dean didn’t protest for once. The brothers drove from Kansas to Albuquerque, stopping along the way to load up on a few things they’d need. After they had defeated the ghouls, they stopped at a nearby motel and Dean left while Sam was in the shower, seeking out the nearest bar. When he found one he pulled into the parking lot and shut off the ignition, ignoring the shaking in his hands.

“What’ll it be?”

“Whiskey.”

“Funny, I thought maybe you’d ask for Castiel.” The woman behind the bar smirked at him.

“Excuse me?!”

“Shh, not so loud, tough guy. I’m Theliel, angel of love.”

“Right, and I’m Santa Claus. Nice to meet you, Cupid.”

“I’m serious, Dean Winchester. You’re not nearly as funny as the others painted you.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I told you, chuckles, I’m Theliel.”

“Right. Okay, Theliel, what do you want?”

“God has smiled down His favor on you, Winchester.”

“Oh, oh _right._ I forgot all about God’s divine favor on me. The Chosen One and all that bullshit, right?”

“Winchester, don’t try my patience. Now listen, you son of a bitch. I am here to give you a message so I can go back to paradise and not have to see you ungrateful bunch of humans anymore. Frankly, I’m sick of being the angel of love because it means I get caught up in your boohoo bullshit pity parties.”

“Alright, alright, Cupid, I’m listening.” Dean held up his hands as a sign of benevolence.

“God has shined His favor on you. You will get what your heart most desires. It may take some time, but you will receive what God has promised you.”

“Right. And that means?”

Theliel sighed deeply, rolling his eyes, “It means, you big oaf, that you will get something you really, really want soon. I don’t know when ‘soon’ is, or how much time it is, so don’t bother to ask. We run off a different set of rules as far as time goes in Heaven.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at the angel, “So, does that mean I’ll wake up in paradise with a never-ending plate of cheeseburgers and a bunch of virgins?”

Theliel simply stared at Dean, not bothering to answer him.

“Right, well, can you at least get me that whiskey, Cupid?”

“You need to stop drinking, Dean. You’re going to hurt the people who really care about you.”

“Already done that. What’s next on the shitty human checklist?”

“Dean, listen. You need to be prepared to receive the blessing when it comes to you, and if you’re drinking yourself into an early grave you won’t be able to receive the blessing.”

“Just get me the whiskey, okay? I’ll quit tomorrow. But tonight I need a stiff drink.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Dean Winchester.”

In the same flutter of wings the angel had disappeared, leaving behind a glass of whiskey. Dean dropped some cash on the bar top and grabbed his jacket, walking out into the warm night air. He looked up at the sky splattered with stars and leaned against the back of the Impala.

“Hey, Cupid… I mean, Theliel?”

“Yes, Dean?” The angel stood before him, still wearing the vessel of the bartender.

“If you guys can see everyone can you tell me—“

“Castiel?”

“Yeah, how’s he doing?”

“He’s okay, Dean. He is struggling just as much as you are with the decision. But he seems content with the life he has now.”

“Right. So he’s happy. That’s all that matters.”

“Dean, please stop self-destructing? Is this what Castiel would want?”

“I don’t know what Castiel would want for me. Apparently he didn’t care enough to stay.”

“That’s just it, Dean. He did care. He cared too much. He’s always cared too much. Castiel left you because of _your_ decisions. He was lonely, Dean.”

“HOW?! How the fuck are you trying to pin this on me, Cupid?”

The angel stepped forward, touching Dean on the forehead.

_Castiel stood in the window watching Dean and Sam leave._

_Castiel stood in the kitchen cooking, and Dean was sitting in the living room discussing yet another case with Sam._

_Castiel alone on his and Dean’s anniversary._

_Castiel cancelling the plans at the restaurant._

_Castiel getting into an empty bed. And another night alone. And another._

_Castiel decorating a tree for a Christmas he and Dean would end up spending apart._

_The Christmas present, a brand new gun, and Dean sitting with regret that he had forgotten to get Cas anything. They had been so busy on a case._

_Castiel watching the faces of his brothers and sisters turn away from him as he fell._

_Castiel watching Dean’s face turn away from him to go on yet another hunt._

“STOP! PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU!” Dean collapsed on his knees.

“See, Dean. You put your work before the one who gave up everything for you. What did you give up for him?” The angel’s voice faded as he disappeared again.

Dean pulled himself into the front seat of the Impala, staring out of the windshield as a peal of thunder crackled overhead. He felt himself start shaking and realized he was crying again. He had given up nothing where Cas had given up everything. He was the reason Cas left, nothing else. He’d failed again.


	3. Chapter 3: Baby I've been here before I've seen this room and I've walked this floor. (you know) I used to live alone before I knew ya. And I've seen your flag on the marble arch. And love is not a victory march. It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean are facing parallel situations with their post-break up lives. But sometimes things don't go exactly as we plan, and things start to spiral out of control. Divine intervention and a second chance at life are offered to both Castiel and Dean, but will they take the offer or try to take matters into their own hands? 
> 
> Suicide and self-injury TW for this chapter.

Dean went home and poured every ounce of liquor down the sink. Sam leaned on the door frame of the kitchen and watched his brother, a small smile on his face. Dean had come home and explained everything, and Sam was grateful to see the light return to his brother’s eyes. It had been months since the encounter with the angel and the self-destructive pattern increased until Dean hit rock bottom.

_Dean stood in the bathroom, downing the remnants of another bottle of whiskey, swaying dangerously on his feet. He stared at himself in the mirror, his angry expression staring back at him. For a flicker of a second he thought he saw Cas in the mirror too. He turned around, stumbling into the wall and stared at the spot in the mirror._

_“Cas you son of a bitch! Why did you leave me? God, someone, anyone please just give me one more chance!”_

_The bottle was dropped in a garbage can and he cracked open the next bottle, taking a sip and feeling the world heave around him. It took less than 5 minutes for him to finish that bottle, and all that was left was more emptiness. Dean felt himself stumbling, falling into the tub in a loud crash. He blacked out in the bathroom of the apartment and woke up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning, Sam sitting next to the bed and a woman standing next to him with her hand on his shoulder. Dean blinked against the sudden bright light._

_“Sammy?” Dean’s voice was hoarse._

_“Sleep well?”_

_“What the hell happened?”_

_“Oh, the usual. Drank yourself into oblivion, got alcohol poisoning, halfway destroyed the bathtub. Shot a hole in the ceiling when you thought the shower curtain was a demon.”_

_“Damn. I’m sorry, Sammy…. Who the hell is she?” Dean asked, nodding at the woman standing next to Dean._

_“She’s an angel, Dean.”_

_“Fuck off. Like I need more of those in my life.”_

_The woman brushed a lock of her short, brown hair behind her ear. Her face was round and cherubic, dotted with freckles and her green eyes seemed unnaturally large and bright. Her full lips tugged into a lopsided smile and she tilted her head as Dean stared at her._

_“Good afternoon, Dean. We are very glad you’re awake now. Apparently my brother Theliel was a bit too… uh, blunt with his message to you. I am here to give you another message.”_

_“I don’t care about anymore fucking angelic messages, thanks.”_

_“Dean, please just listen to what she has to say.” Sam gave Dean a pleading look._

_“Fine, wings, you got five minutes.”_

_“Thank you, Dean. My name is Zedkiel, but you can call me Zed if that is easier for you. God has heard the prayers of you and your loved one.”_

_Dean looked over at Sam. Sam raised his eyebrows and shrugged._

_“No, not Sam, though we certainly hear his petitions, too. No, Sam, you’re not getting a dog.” The angel’s lips twitched as she tried not to laugh. “Castiel. We have heard his petitions, and we heard your petition in the desperation of your heart, Dean. The decision has not been reached, but you are highly favored for your many sacrifices over the years. God and the others are considering your request. You will know our decision soon.”_

_Dean felt his pulse quicken. He wouldn’t allow himself to hope, to think that Cas would come back. “Yeah, well that’s great. I won’t hold my breath. What’s the catch? Some other angel want to ride my ass too?”_

_“This is not about your and Castiel’s sexual relationship, Dean. Frankly, I don’t think any of the other angels would be interested in having sexual relations with you.” Zedkiel looked genuinely confused and Sam began laughing, coughing into his hand when he caught Dean’s expression._

_“For fuck’s— What is the catch, wings?”_

_“You must stop drinking. A drink on occasion, though highly unfavorable, is okay but you have got to stop getting drunk, Dean.”_

_“Right.”_

_“Dean, I am serious. I am not lying to you. This greatly influences our decision. Sober up.” And with that she was gone._

_“Not a word.”_

_“So you’re a bottom, then?”_

_“SHUT UP, SAM!”_

Castiel had been dealing with those months equally as bad. No matter who he slept with, no matter how much liquor he drank, nothing would fill the void left behind by his leaving Dean. He’d thought he was strong enough to do this on his own. He thought he could give up the man who was wholly engrained in every part of him. Castiel thought he could give up everything, walk away, and never look back. But the world had become a dull, colorless place in his time away from Dean. He had done so well, but now he was barely making rent with the scraps of money he made on his now limited schedule and his boss had been threatening to fire him for weeks. He supposed the man felt sorry for him and couldn’t bear to fire a man in such a bad state. Eventually he became numb to everything around him. And that is when another addiction began. But no matter how much he drug the blade across his skin, it only made him feel alive for a few hours. Then the buzz wore off and he was left with an ugly mess and a wound he couldn’t bear to explain to his coworkers.

Castiel and Dean’s anniversary came and went, and Castiel spent the day drinking until he could stop crying, slicing away the memories of Dean, and crying all over again. The pattern was perverse, disgusting to the former angel, but what the hell was he supposed to do? He had given prayer after prayer, asking God to kill him or to let the world swallow him up. Castiel had made his decision long ago, and took the final steps; writing his goodbyes, drawing a hot bath, and laying the blade on the side of bathtub next to him. He settled into the bathtub and closed his eyes, dragging the blade against his skin and whimpering as he pressed down harder than usual. The water swirled red around him, and his eyes stared unfocused on the ceiling. Eventually his breathing slowed and the world became utterly quiet around him.

The angel stood in the doorway, sighing softly to herself. Despite being the angel of prayers, she was often the angel of cleaning up after the messes of others. She stared down at the unmoving form in the tub with her bright green eyes betraying the pain she felt at his situation, and she observed the water turning a deeper shade of crimson around him. In three steps she’d crossed the bathroom and stood over the shell of the fierce angel she’d once known. Humans did such awful things sometimes.

Zedkiel leaned down and put her mouth next to Castiel’s ear, her fingers raising and pressing against his forehead. “Castiel, awaken.”

Castiel gasped, splashing around in the tub as he jerked into a sitting position. His vision swam as he struggled to catch his breath. His chest heaved and he finally noticed Zedkiel sitting on the edge of the tub.

“Oh, Castiel.” Her voice was so small and sad.

“Zedkiel. Please, just let me die.”

“What is it with you and Dean Winchester both wanting to die? There is so much beauty in this world to live for, and yet you ignore it all because you are in love with one another. I cannot understand, my brother.”

“You’ve never been in love, Zedkiel, you don’t know what it’s like.”

“For this, I am glad. It seems like love makes you so sad in the end…”

“Why are you here, Zedkiel?”

“You know, Castiel, that I am the angel of petition. God has heard your petitions, Castiel. He wants to give you what you have been praying for. But you have got to stop these destructive habits.”

“What do I have to live for anymore, Zed? I have built my whole life around Dean Winchester.”

The angel smiled, brushing a lock of Castiel’s wet hair out of his face and cupping his chin gently with her hand, “Castiel, he loves you. He never stopped loving you. Please forgive me if I am overstepping my boundaries, but I feel like this needs to be said. Castiel, do you remember how hard it was to change the way you were after you fell?”

“What do you mean?”

“How long did you try to touch Dean’s body when he came home with battle wounds? How frequently did you find yourself attempting to go days without eating or sleeping, only to crash because you were not used to relying on a human body? I am sure on more than one occasion you tried to zap the boys out of a bad situation, because that is what you were used to.”

“What are you getting at, Zedkiel?”

“How uncomfortable were you when you realized you couldn’t do all of those things? Provided that you did not have to give up Dean Winchester, would you use your powers if you still had them?”

“Of course! That is a stupid question, Zed.”

“Cas, it is the same for Dean. He is comfortable hunting because it is what he does.” Zedkiel smiled at him, moving and perching herself on the sink.

“I gave up _everything_ for Dean.”

“Yes, but you would take it all back if you could keep him, right?”

“Yes…”

“Honestly, Castiel, could you ever really picture Dean holding down a normal human job with a mortgage and giving up his hunting and give ‘em hell attitude as he so delicately puts it?”

“Not really… but it is so lonely, Zedkiel.”

“I know, Castiel. Dean has got some heavy decisions to make, and so do you. But know that, regardless of what the outcome is, God has heard your prayers and will answer them.”

“I understand, Zedkiel. I-I will do as our father asks of me.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon, Castiel.” She was gone in a flutter of wings.

Castiel looked down, the latest wounds not even visible on his wrists anymore. Castiel got out of the tub and looked up, kneeling down and closing his eyes, giving thanks to God for the prevention and deliverance He had offered to Castiel. A true second chance at life.

He walked into the kitchen and poured the last of his alcohol down the sink, tossing away the razors with some hesitation. Castiel smiled at himself in the bathroom mirror and splashed cold water on his face, noting the hopeful look growing in his eyes. Perhaps things would work out after all.


	4. Chapter 4: You finally find you and I collide.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Struggling through the haze of self-destruction and the subsequent recovery, one would be surprised at just how much Dean and Castiel's lives parallel. But a chance meeting at a grocery store may just change things. For the good or for the bad? You'll have to read to find out.

Castiel stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom. He adjusted his tie and ran his fingers through his thick, brown hair. He’d been recently given a promotion at work, and he was currently eight months sober. Castiel had made peace with the fact that he was stuck in limbo about the promises made by the angel, but he had resolved himself to be patient. Coming from being an angel at one point, he understood that God had His own timing with these things. The day would come soon enough. He got into his car and drove down to the office where he was greeted with smiles and good mornings. 

Cas continued his routine, grabbing coffee and checking his schedule book for the day, complementing the ladies in his office, seeing patients, taking his lunch at one of his nearby favorites, coming back to more patients and a couple of meetings, AA, and then going home to cook a healthy dinner and relax in front of the TV. The routine helped keep his mind busy, something his AA sponsor had said worked for him when he was in his early stages of recovery. Before he went to bed he kneeled next to the bed, closing his eyes and bowing his head, saying his thanks and prayers, asking God to watch over his brothers and sisters who were locked in battles around the world, and to thank him for another chance at life. 

Across the city Dean stood in front of his mirror. He checked out a recovering wound, one surprisingly not related to hunting, and pulled a white shirt over his head. Construction was something he’d always been naturally good at, particularly carpentry and electrical work. He’d taken up a normal-person, read boring, job to keep his mind off of hunting. He wasn’t out of the business forever, of course, but he’d forced himself to take another job to try to have some semblance of a normal life. Though it hadn’t worked in the past, now he seemed to be relatively jinn-free. Sammy had gone back to school, and both were being more selective of the jobs they took. 

Dean had gotten himself into AA and gotten himself healthy again. He jumped into his truck and headed down to the job site, saying good morning to his coworkers, taking a sip of coffee from the thermos he carried, and starting straight into ripping out old wires. He took lunch on the site, cut up with the guys, made plans to go to a game that weekend, whistled at a few pretty girls, then went home where he took his turn grilling dinner since Sammy would be in late, showered, and went to bed. He lay in bed staring at the ceiling before rolling over to curl up next to the pillow he’d been sparingly spritzing in Cas’ aftershave he’d left behind. Dean had never been a patient person, but this time he knew what he’d been promised was worth waiting on.

Eighteen months. It had been eighteen months since Castiel had left Dean and their lives had been, in a way, parallel. Though their lives had been so parallel, there had been no reason for their lives to intersect… until now. Castiel got out of his car and resisted the urge to yawn. It was still fairly early on his day off, and he’d decided to go to the newly opened organic grocery store to see if he could find a specific type of pasta he’d been wanting to use in a recipe. He’d also needed to restock his coconut oil and his raw sugar that he used in baking. 

At the same time Dean Winchester was prowling through the aisles with Sam, picking things up and sniffing them before making a face and putting them back on the shelf. He wasn’t big into this whole organic, raw food shit, he’d take a bacon cheeseburger over kale any day. But Sammy had gotten into taking care of his body again, and Dean’s sponsor had suggested trying new foods to see if they could get him on a halfway decent eating pattern. Dean picked up something that was a shade of green he could only describe as ‘baby ate mashed peas’ and sniffed it. The powder made his nose itch and his eyes watered.

Castiel grabbed a cart and stopped to smell the mangoes, putting a few in the cart to take home and make a salsa out of. All those years of reading cooking magazines and cookbooks when Dean and Sam were gone had given him a lot of ideas for things he could make. It turned out Castiel was a natural cook, and he took to recipes very well, even bending them and adding new thins to the recipes when he felt particularly daring. As he walked down the jam and jelly aisle he heard a familiar booming sneeze that made him jump and drop the bottle of grape jelly he had in his hand. It couldn’t be. Castiel’s head whipped around and he tried to figure out where the sound had come from. Dean had always had one of those sneezes you could hear across an entire warehouse. It was something he would never get used to, and which caused more than one broken bottle in their house. 

Dean heard a glass jar shatter a couple of aisles away and snickered at Sam, who merely rolled his eyes at his older brother. Dean put the bottle of powder back on the shelf and rubbed at his nose, trying not to sneeze again. Well, that definitely was not going on the list. Then Dean smelt it. Blood. It was extremely strong to his well-trained nose and he glanced over at Sam who was reading the label on a box of cereal. Dean looked around and turned down the aisles, quickly sprinting to see if he could find the source of the coppery scent. He rounded another corner and froze, seeing a familiar form stooped in the floor, the hem of trench coat wrinkled around a pair of dress shoes. Dean felt his breath catch in his chest. 

Castiel knew it. He knew before he even turned around that he would see Dean Winchester standing behind him. In all the years they’d been together, he had gotten used to the particular presence Dean had when he was in fight mode. Castiel stood up and turned around, his hand dripping blood on the linoleum floor from where the piece of jar had cut him. He met Dean’s eyes and his body went hot and then cold. Castiel turned his eyes to the floor, unable to look at Dean’s face. Castiel didn’t know what to do.   
But Dean knew exactly what to do. He walked over and quickly fished around in his pockets, finding a relatively clean handkerchief. Dean didn’t say a word as he wrapped Castiel’s hand and applied pressure to the wound. He’d noticed that it wouldn’t need stitches, but Cas would need to keep it clean to prevent an infection. He wished he’d had some whiskey to pour over the wound to clean it, but he’d given that up. Dean’s jaw twitched as he tried not to meet Castiel’s eyes. He inhaled and smelled Castiel’s aftershave, and felt his stomach flip. 

Always his knight-in-shining armor, Dean had quickly attended to Castiel. Just like old times. He couldn’t recall how often, when he’d first started cooking, he would nick his hands or fingers only to have Dean swoop in, clean it, and mend it up for him. With Dean holding pressure to the wound, Cas wanted him to never let go of his hand again. Castiel looked up, desperately hoping Dean would meet his eyes. And when he finally did, Castiel instantly regretted having that thought. He wanted to tug his arm away from Dean and he felt himself panic as Dean shoved up the sleeve of his trench coat to get it out of the way of his doctoring.   
This was not what he had expected. He’d hoped to come in, do some shopping, and go home and get some yard work done. He and Sammy had recently moved into a small house, getting sick of living in an apartment that reminded them too much of the hotels they’d spent decades living in. He met Castiel’s gaze and his lip inadvertently twitched in a half-smile. Dean couldn’t help it, when he looked into Castiel’s eyes it was like the world had stopped and everything was… normal. He shifted Castiel’s sleeve so that he could check to make sure the glass hadn’t cut him anywhere else and he felt himself go cold. Scars littered Castiel’s arms, and not scars from a fight or an injury. He’d seen these types of scars a few times, especially with some of the hunter kids he grew up with. 

“Oh, Castiel.” 

With those two words Castiel broke. He carefully tugged his hand away, pulling at the sleeve of his trench coat and avoiding Dean’s eyes. Dean’s hand reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face and Castiel flinched. He didn’t want Dean to feel sorry for him, or to think he’d caused it. Granted, in a way he had caused this, they both had. But he didn’t want Dean shouldering the blame. Castiel felt his throat constrict, and he struggled not to cry. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms, looking pointedly at the floor. Dean looked at Castiel and repeated the same thing “Oh, Cas…” 

“Dean, don’t. Please, don’t do this.” 

“Cas, I don’t— why.” 

“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, you were my whole life, Dean,” There he went, bitter and blaming, and he quickly backtracked, “I got depressed. I self-destructed. Shit happened.” 

“Cas, are you okay now?” 

“I’m no worse for the wear, Dean. How are you?” 

“I’m, ah, well. Shit happened. But I’m okay now. I guess.” 

“Dean, I—“  
“Cas, I’m—“   
“I’m sorry.” They both said at the same time. 

“It was all my fault, Castiel, I shouldn’t have ignored you so much. God, Cas, I am such an ass.” 

“Dean, we both made mistakes. It wasn’t entirely your fault.”

“Castiel, I don’t know what else to say but I’m sorry. I am so sorry.” 

Castiel knew the consequences but he couldn’t resist. He took a step forward and wrapped his arms around Dean, pressing his temple into Dean’s shoulder. He felt Dean take a sharp breath before his arms came up and wrapped around Castiel. They stood in the middle of the aisle, holding each other close and taking each other in. Castiel had almost forgotten how it felt to be curled up against Dean’s chest, but Dean had never forgotten just how warm Castiel always seemed to be. Sam wandered around looking for Dean and saw him hugging Castiel in the aisle. He grinned and stepped back so they wouldn’t see him. Thank god, things were finally going back to normal. Now his brother could be stupid and lovesick and Castiel could follow him around like an excited puppy. The ship hadn’t sunk after all.


End file.
